


Every Good Girl does Fine

by karrenia_rune



Category: Indiana Jones Series
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-18
Updated: 2011-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:18:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karrenia_rune/pseuds/karrenia_rune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A back story for Marion Ravenwood set during her early college years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Good Girl does Fine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redletters/gifts).



Disclaimer: Indiana Jones and all of the characters who appear here or are mentioned belong  
to the creators and producers of the movies and do not belong to me. Marion's roommate is my own creation.

 

"Every Good Girl Does Fine" by karrenia

Marion twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers without consciously thinking about what she was doing, all the while studying the crowd gathered in the ballroom. She was having difficulty concentrating on paying attention to the speeches. The gala was a charity donation and while she was all for charity, she was becoming a bit antsy.

Staring down at her wrist watch showed that the gala had at least four more hours to run. Also, she wondered what she was thinking when she allowed her roommate Kerry Matthews to talk her into dressing up in a taffeta burgundy affair complete with pleats and ruffles and a lace collar that often felt as if it were choking off the air.

Her advisor at the university insisted that she wear the gown and the 2-inch heels and so she had been waiting for the emcee to announce her. Glancing around the ballroom, she realized with a blush that her professor in anthropology and archeology had broken off his discussion and was now looking in her direction. She blushed and then, with a toss of her head, boldly returned his stare. Her roommate, Kerry Matthews tapped her on the shoulder. “He’s cute.

“Oh, yes! He’s also my professor.”

“So, are you gonna let that stop you?” replied Kerry in a hushed conspiratorial undertone.

“The things that you get up to, Kerry,” laughed Marion.

“It’s for charity. Maybe you could ask him for one dance. What would it hurt?”  
Marion shook her head. “For the sake of argument, let’s say that I did ask him to dance and I fell flat on my face, what then?”

“I’d say, nothing ventured, nothing gained,” replied Kerry.

“Yeah, and aside from my backside,” remarked Marion,” the only thing I’d hurt was my pride.  
Throwing caution to the winds Marion crossed the intervening space with a determined stride and tapped Professor Jones on the shoulder. “Pardon, but might, would you like to dance?”

The look on his face, at first, was a mingling of surprise and something less easily defined however, after a moment or two he offered her his arm and they both stepped out to pace the measures of Bach’s Waltz in G-Minor.  
Much to her surprise her own dancing skills proved not as horribly embarrassing as she had feared, and when the gala came to an end; she went back to her dorm with a foolish grin plastered across her face.

Later that evening, right after a shower, dressed in her pajamas, seated at the edge of her bed with Kerry writing in her diary, Marion sighed. “You know something?’

“So, spill. How was it?”

“You were right.”

“Well, you could hardly fault a girl for trying,” replied Kerry with a wink. “I don’t know what it is about you, but as my mother used to say, ‘there’s just something about you, Marion, something that said now there’s someone who has a look about here that she will accomplish great things in this life.’

“Flattery, my friend, but so well-spoken.” Marion laughed. “How could I argue with an endorsement like that?”  
**  
Spring break had come and Marion Ravenwood, no stranger to traveling to odd destinations all over the world as a young girl at the side of her famous father, had determined to go back-packing through Europe.

The only thing that might impede her plans was the fact that most of the continent was in a state of uproar what the war going on between the Allies and the Axis.  
Her friends and colleagues at school figured it was too dangerous for a young woman to travel alone.

Promising that she would take every precaution and steer clear of the areas where the fighting was most heavily concentrated Marion set out on her trip.  
Even in her own mind she was not entirely certain what she expected to find; certainly not something as straightforward as herself; for that was something she knew she could never lose.

It was part and parcel, intrinsic to everything that she was; but certainly she expected to find adventure and to immerse herself in the culture of the countries through which she traveled, as much as possible.  
**  
She had stepped out of the shower when the air-raid sirens that warned the citizens of London to seek immediate shelter indoors. The black-out curtains prevented her from gaining a clear view of what was happening outside, but then having spent about a week in London, she had gained a pretty good idea.

She grabbed a towel from a rack and wrapped about her, as much for warmth as for modesty’s sake and began to dry off. Once that was done she began to dress, in slacks, underwear and a long-sleeved black shirt and a pair of solid but serviceable shoes.

Heading towards the door she opened it and stepped out on the front stoop of her ground-floor flat. The sight of armored tanks and troops had become a familiar one by now. Looking up at the dimly lit gray skies she saw the criss-crossing contrails given off by the pilots of the RAF.

A part of her nature ached to join them in those dim gray skies; to fight and life, live and die, fighting for a cause bigger than her own life. However, another, more practical side, was painfully aware that she would regret it’s coming to be.

Still, in her travels she could not be completely unaware of the cost the war had on everyone: men, women and children. She heaved a sigh and realized and then said aloud: “There must be something more I can do, something that will make a difference. And, it’s not like I’d be doing it in order to prove something to anybody.”

A thin boy of about twelve years of age came running up to her at that instant, dressed in clothing that had seen better days and his shoes had holes in them, he offered her a rose.”Her, missus, a beautiful flower for a beautiful lady.”

She glanced down at the boy and said: “Thank you’”

He blushed as she took it and then scampered off.

She held the rose by its stem and twirled it between her fingers. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”


End file.
